


do me right

by st_elsewhere



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Confused Danny, Humor, M/M, Porn, Sexual Humor, been told that i write decent pr0n let's see, kinda ironic title troolololol, mention of skrtel/nando because slut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1839832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_elsewhere/pseuds/st_elsewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>the sight is weirdly erotic. fernando looks like the textbook example of submission; his sleep-induced face is void of expression but his full mouth is open in a perfect ‘O’. his whole body seems relaxed like it’s molded right to the bed (likehe’sgettingfucked?).</p>
            </blockquote>





	do me right

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  i ship danando, too. hm, pr0n.
> 
> as usual kudos and comments are encouraged and appreciated. i hope you'll enjoy *breakdance*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“danny.”

daniel grunts as he pops open the button of his jeans.

“i’m going to bed early. uhm, would you please tone down the television in case you’re watching something later?” fernando asks from where he’s sitting on his single bed, hugging his knees tightly, his blond hair is everywhere after a shower. with his sleeping attire which is a baby blue colored threadbare cotton t-shirt and drawstring pants plus the way the hotel room’s dim lighting creating magenta effect on his pale skin, his nickname sure suits him.

“don’t worry about it,” danny nods at his teammate slash roommate of the day and takes off his own led zeppelin t-shirt. fernando blinks. “you saved some hot water for me, right?”

“thanks,” fernando smiles slightly and does a surprising back roll to reach the headboard instead of crawling and/or shifting his ass like any normal person would. daniel snorts. fernando’s freckled face is flushed when he composes himself. “and yes, danny, there’s some hot water for you,” he says happily, sliding under the white duvet. “good night.”

“night, el niño.”

 

 

 

daniel’s eyes are dropping heavily at one-ish in the morning, and he remembers turning off the almost mute television but not falling asleep still clutching the remote.

he jerks awake nanoseconds later because he hears a steady moaning from somewhe—

_huh._

daniel hits his temple with the remote when he uses the heel of his right hand to rub at his eyes. sniffing, he puts the remote to the bedside table and checks the time. it’s almost three. breakfast is at eight. their plane back to liverpool is at twelv—

“nnnghhh...”

right.

“nnn~ uhhn~ uh uh uh uh—”

 _that dream must be vivid,_ daniel shakes his head in amusement and tugs open the white duvet, lazily dragging himself into its cocoon.

“— _aaah!_ ah! ahhh, ah, ah, ah—”

daniel rests his head on the fluffy pillow and humors himself by thinking out loud that boy wonder is articulate in bed, huh, and well he can just stuff earphones to his ears and listens to black sabbath, right?

sighing quietly, daniel gets up from the bed. he left his backpack where he stashes his ipod on the armchair by the windows. he sneezes when he gets his remedy, scrolling past the metal and rock albums on his ipod’s library and then he looks up and _whoa._

the sight is weirdly erotic. fernando looks like the textbook example of submission; his sleep-induced face is void of expression but his full mouth is open in a perfect ‘O’. his whole body seems relaxed like it’s molded right to the bed (likehe’sgettingfucked?) and his fingers are clutching the edges of his pillow and they’re moving along with the rocking of his spread legs; the duvet is already kicked away, and daniel can see fernando’s toes curling-uncurling on the sheet.

_“mmmm~”_

yet, daniel frowns and stares stares stares, there is no bulge on fernando’s crotch despite the obvious signs of (getting fucked?) having a sex dream right at this moment.

daniel jumps when he accidentally presses ‘play’ and the angry intro of 30 second to mars’ _it’s a beautiful lie_ is blasting in his ears.

should he wake fernando? that’ll be awkward. like, what is he going to say? sorry to interrupt, o, liverpool hat-trick prince, but can you _tone down_ your sex noises a little?

“ah!”

daniel shrugs and manifests his indifference at its best as he climbs back to the bed.

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

apparently, one cannot stay indifferent for a very long time.

take our confused protagonist daniel, for example. ever since the partly embarrassing partly amusing so-called incident involving fernando ‘baby-faced striker by day a wanton sub by night’ torres, it’s as if every single flick of sweat-matted blond hair or every single flash of boyish smile or every little things that he does/breathes/says don’t go unnoticed by daniel.

and daniel is suffering, for god’s sake, he has never been more troubled than that one time sophie had asked about which one looked better for her; a hot pink _or_ a fuchsia colored evening dress back when they were still dating.

so fernando has a habit to bite his thumbnail whenever he’s listening to rafa’s instruction and he uses conditioner with keratin whatsoever and he looks just as unapproachable as himself when he’s concentrating and his ass nicely fills his shorts like that ass is so full and supple and daniel is never an ass man, okay, that’s where the fucking problem is.

he wants to have a _taste._

before they roomed together at london, fernando had always been wary whenever they happened to be near each other and he’s one of those guys who just couldn’t contain his emotion; danny breathing? pouts. danny yelling? pouts. danny standing at the other side of the locker room? pouts some more. fernando had always cowered whenever daniel was around, and they haven’t really talked if it wasn’t necessary. but fernando’s naturally kind persona doesn’t help at all for god’s sake, now that the spaniard understands daniel agger doesn’t bite.

now, just so you know, fernando smiles at daniel and doesn’t pout when they’re paired up together as stretching partner. fernando also laughs at daniel’s snark instead of furrowing his eyebrows like he doesn’t get such brash humor. he touches daniel, too; innocent high fives and fist bumps, mostly, but still.

still.

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

“i have a question.”

“go on.”

“will it satisfy my soul if i decide to taste something new, but not exactly tasting it, more like, looking for a substitute of the more or less same taste?”

“oh, love, didn’t you hear yourself?”

“i know, mum, but it’s killing me!”

“then have a taste of both sides, danny, don’t sweat yourself!”

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

first of all, daniel is not even bi-curious.

secondly, he’s a public figure. he can’t just strut to a club alone and take a guy home to fuck.

thus thirdly, his shaking hands are acceptable shutupokay because he never tried to call a high end escort service before. the woman on the other line sounds professional as she listens to daniel’s specific demand; blond, tall, chocolate eyes, and oh, kinda freckly, please?

“you look familiar,” is the first thing the blond, tall, chocolate eyed, freckly, not-fernando guy says to him when he opens the front door. the coy smile is all wrong and actually he’s not that tall.

“yea, well,” daniel shrugs, lets the male prostitute (escort? but the receptionist said he can fuck him) into his house, and helps taking off the burberry coat. upon closer inspection, the guy is well-groomed with his neat and shiny hair, spotless pale face with freckles scattering around his nose, his expensive clothing and manicured hands.

“what should i call you?” daniel guides him in with a hand on his lower back.

“i’m théo. but i don’t mind roleplaying.” théo sweeps his gaze to daniel’s living room and nods to himself, probably approving the housekeeper’s work.

“cheeky,” daniel snorts. “what would you like to drink, théo?”

“do you have orange juice, _sir?_ i’d like a glass, thank you.”

“right. i’m daniel. make yourself comfortable.”

théo is a great conversation partner. he listens very well, very attentive, and he asks smart questions. if daniel didn’t remember his true intention he would’ve fooled himself and thought that he genuinely _liked_ théo. not that he hates théo whose job is to provide such illusion of the much more real, unreachable desire, though.

“you’ve been trained well by your company,” daniel comments after théo backfires his own argument at him. what were they talking about? daniel is too preoccupied by his consciousness donoteventhinktobesofttohimjesus that he already forgets.

théo smiles. the tips of his ears are reddening. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

daniel finishes his beer in one big gulp. “me neither,” he coughs to conceal his burp. “do you kiss on the mouth or are you pulling the pretty woman move with your clients?”

théo doesn’t sound like fernando when daniel pushes his hard cock into him and officially ending his own gay virginity for the next two rounds they’re having in daniel’s bed and then against the shower wall. théo verbalizes what he’s thinking, that daniel is so big inside of me you’re so hard for me oh oh _oh_ yes! there! and daniel has to cover his babbling mouth with a hand, muffling the suspiciously scripted praises and not the submissive moans, as he fucks théo harder and harder and harder his green-grey eyes are crossed to the back of his head because hands down théo’s ass is tighter than most of the women he’s ever slept with.

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

because daniel is not even bi-curious and he doesn’t know when will he ever be rooming with fernando again, he’s having a hard time (no pun intended) to... what’s the word... to _court_ the spaniard to sleep with him.

flowers are out of question. so do chocolates and designer bags. he vaguely remembers fernando has (had?) a girlfriend, but he swears there was nothing demure from the way fernando danced with skrtel last weekend after a win against everton.

ah. skrtel. his designated evil twin. they’re liverpool’s two scary defense towers and anfield’s tattooed bad boys. they even share the same zodiac, for crying out loud, they must be sharing the same taste of _man_ ; blond, tall, chocolate eyes, and freckled.

and what’s best, skrtel doesn’t tease him about his hopeless infatuation towards fernando; he just raises one eyebrow and shrugs when daniel asks,

“how’s the golden boy in bed?”

“he sure likes my dick.” and skrtel never sounds too self-congratulatory even though that’s probably the truth.

“‘likes’?”

“fucked him in his car this morning and last week, dan, that’s worth a present tense, yeah?”

it’s like someone throws a chair to his head. daniel frowns, swallows, but he shifts closer to skrtel and whispers,

“do you think i can, like, borrow him sometimes?”

“not my call,” skrtel is still not laughing at daniel. that’s good. “we’re not exclusive. but of course you have to politely ask him.”

“did you?”

“did i what?”

“politely asked him to fuck?”

now skrtel does scoff and smirk at daniel’s naivety.

“don’t look at me like that, skrtel, i swear.” daniel fights the urge to stomp because yeah, that was weak and lame.

“no. _he_ came to me, dan, and you know you couldn’t say no to that face. but i don’t think i’m the only one, to be honest. i don’t fancy boys, yet i don’t mind driving to his place at midnight just because he’s feeling a little bit ‘randy’.”

 _cool,_ daniel whoops in joy but schools down his expression, _i still have a chance!_

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

and what a chance, indeed.

daniel is preparing to go to bed after a long day of photo shoot to promote liverpool’s new sponsored kit. he brushes his teeth and is turning off the tap when he hears his cellphone ringing.

he grumbles because he wants to sleep, but when he sees the caller ID he immediately picks it up with a frown.

“hello?”

“hi, danny, it’s fernando.” daniel will bet his paycheck that fernando is playing with his hair right now.

“yeah,” his answer is automatically said in his infamous indifferent tone. “hey.”

fernando pauses.

daniel ignores the grotesque anticipation bubbling in the pit of his stomach. jesus. what is wrong with him?! it’s just a phone cal—

“martin said he’s busy.”

—l.

_“what?”_

“you know what,” fernando huffs to the phone. “martin said you’ve been asking about me, so i thought i’d call you instead of harry...”

“why the fuck would you want to call that old man kewell?”

another pause.

_“exactly.”_

and is that a smug tone he just heard? daniel growls just so he won’t laugh. who would’ve thought fernando can be _sassy?_

“give me your address, then. i’ll be there in twenty.”

 

 

 

fernando lives in a flat. it’s modern and styled in monochromatic theme and it has three bedrooms. but that’s about it, for daniel is not interested to gawk at fernando’s tidy little flat when he has fernando on his lap grinding his bubble butt against his crotch and kissing him senseless while making the perfect wanton noises like he remembers/wants/craves from eons ago.

fuck this is turning him on so much.

“i am?” and dear lord how can this cockslut sound so _shy?_

daniel frowns and sighs before he can help himself. “what?” he’d like to get back to kissing, thank you very much.

fernando leans back to scrutinize daniel with his bambi eyes and he’s playing with daniel’s earlobes.

“am i turning you on so much, danny?”

_well done, agger._

“yeah,” daniel stutters, making a dismissive gesture with one hand. “yea, sure.” and at fernando’s unconvinced, infuriating, pretty face he has to add hastily, “i mean, your ass?” he whistles and grabs fernando’s ass, squeezing it hard with both hands. only then does fernando look pleased and his shy smile has a hint of cruelty there.

fernando presses a lingering kiss to daniel’s lips, denying daniel’s tongue, and slithers off of his lap quickly to kneel on the carpeted floor. he looks up from behind his long eyelashes at daniel who grins at him, and then he fumbles with daniel’s belt buckle and zipper and daniel lifts off his hips to help him pulling his jeans and boxer off to his ankles.

“oh, hi.” fernando giggles as he takes daniel’s half-hard cock in his right hand. he’s testing the weight and the length, squeezing and thumbing, looking so fucking _happy_ while doing so.

daniel watches, spreading his legs and relaxing to fernando’s plush, black sofa. the root of fernando’s hair is darker than the blond strands. fernando’s white t-shirt has wide neckline, and daniel can see the dip of fernando’s collarbones and damn even that sight is turning him on even more? his mum was right. he should’ve done this since eons ago; he really needs to have a taste.

“do you want me to?” fernando asks somehow genuinely, like he’s not sure whether daniel wants him to suck his cock or not. he’s still holding daniel’s half-hard cock in his warm palm obediently.

“go ahead,” daniel grips a handful of fernando’s hair, and fernando’s eyes flutter closed. “make it hard and wet, but don’t make me come, niño because i’m going to fucking breed you tonight.”

fernando mewls loudly. dirty talk, huh, but daniel doesn’t have time to cheer for the exciting discovery because hie legs jerk at the first touch of fernando’s tongue on the head of his cock. fernando swallows, gathers his saliva and then slathers daniel’s slit with them before sucking the twitching head into his mouth, kissing it, pushing it out with his tongue only to suck it back in, and repeat.

when fernando gets his rhythm, daniel loosens his grip on the spaniard’s hair and closes his eyes, enjoying the foreplay. gradually, fernando bobs his head, taking daniel’s hard as a rock cock deeper, inch by agonizing inch, stroking and squeezing the rest of the length that he can’t fit into his mouth yet. when he swallows, his throat constricts, tightening around daniel’s cock, and daniel loves it. he feels like he doesn’t need to control his strength, because this is not a woman’s soft mouth; he doesn’t have to worry about being too rough with fernando, he can just enjoy without holding back.

daniel grunts when fernando is finally speeding up, the graze of his teeth is just perfect and fernando finds daniel’s weakness by the form of a vein on the underside of daniel’s cock—he presses his thumb there and daniel wonders where the hell did you learn to suck cock like a pro, you slut!

fernando isn’t a noisy cocksucker, as it turns out. he doesn’t really make wanton noises at the back of his throat, and his nose doesn’t breathe heavily. he’s calm, but determined to please.

daniel tugs at the hair on fernando’s nape, forcing him to look up prettily, slowing him down but not stopping at all.

“finger yourself,” daniel says, almost monotonously.

fernando _smiles._ he hollows his cheeks until the sharp cheekbones are showing and daniel is biting his knuckles before he pulls out and his smile is like the sunshine and then confesses that he played a little while waiting for you to arrive, danny, i couldn’t help it.

“fuck.” daniel laughs, suddenly self-conscious with his half naked state. “c’mere,” he grabs fernando’s arms and manhandles him back to his lap. fernando plants his knees on either side of daniel’s waist, giggling happily when daniel shoves a hand into the back of his pajama pants and in between his jiggling ass, pressing a middle finger inside his slicked hole.

daniel curses. fernando’s ass is gaping, for the love of fuck, skrtel is a lucky bastard.

fernando’s crotch is pressed against daniel’s stomach and he’s hard, too. daniel tells him to take off his clothes and fernando scrambles to his feet, shedding everything, standing bare in front of daniel with his cock jutting out and his pale, hairless skin glowing.

daniel manhandles him again and kisses him rather desperately. but he doesn’t care anymore. fernando kisses back hungrily, strategically placing daniel’s hands on each globes of his ass.

that’s so convenient.

“lube?” daniel spits to his left palm to stroke his own cock while fernando raises himself, glancing behind his shoulders like he can’t wait to have daniel deep inside of him.

“didn’t martin tell you?” fernando whispers huskily to the top of daniel’s head, wrapping his arms around it. “i like it rough, danny, please.”

for a split second, daniel’s system is shutting down. fernando’s sluttiness is beyond his comprehension. but nobody is complaining, so daniel spits again to his left palm, strokes his cock again, and nudges the head of his cock into fernando’s ready, greedy hole, screwing his eyes shut and clawing at fernando’s hips as fernando lowers his ass down, down, down, down until daniel’s cock is buried to the hilt and fernando’s ass is pressed flush to his balls.

“alright?” fernando asks, rolling his hips in a teasing circle and just stays seated like daniel’s cock isn’t oozing premature precum no thanks to his velvety heat.

“you’re a fucking slut.” daniel grits his teeth, can’t bring himself to admit that he’s _screwed_ if this is how it feels every time he has his cock up someone’s ass. “fuck you’re tight,” he growls when fernando pouts and pinches his clothed nipple.

“that was a compliment!” daniel glares and slaps fernando’s left ass half-heartedly. “don’t go spreading your legs for anyone else if you don’t want me to call you slut.”

fernando slaps daniel’s left cheek also half-heartedly. but that’s an unadulterated smile blooming on his face.

huh.

“why, danny? are you jealous?” fernando is still smiling as he rolls his hips once, twice, thrice, and daniel is having a hard time to retort because fuckthat’sgooddon’tstop.

“don’t twist your panty, torres,” he croaks out in the end, frowning and abusing fernando’s moving hips, not wanting to tell the world that he’s fucking near.

“whatever you say.” fernando leans down to nibble at daniel’s lips, licking and biting the swollen flesh as he steadily rolls his ass and it’s too much for daniel.

he moans.

“good boy,” fernando purrs, licking his way down to the crook of daniel’s neck and begins pulling his body up, dragging daniel’s purpling cock along until only the head is inside, and then fernando is thrusting back in, catching daniel by surprise because théo didn’t ride him before, okay, he wasn’t prepared for this.

fernando gasps when the first spurt of daniel’s precum is coating his inner muscles.

and then, fernando starts moaning in earnest; his legendary _ah ah ahnnnnhh_ that has been haunting daniel’s dreams is currently played out as their fucking soundtrack. daniel is torn in between focusing on fernando’s moans or staring at fernando’s pleasured face. he doesn’t think he can do both.

“ah...” fernando’s fringe is plastered to his forehead, and there’s one lonely bead of sweat on the tip of his cute nose. “ah, danny, you feel so good.”

“yeah?” daniel, dazed, tries to thrust up to meet with fernando’s ass. he decides that he likes the squelching sound from fernando’s slicked ass and the slapslapslap of their skins.

fernando hums his confirmation, speeding up his tempo. his spine is like liquid now, and his gyrating hips are robbing the breath out of daniel’s lungs. he throws his head back to the ceiling, his adam’s apple is working as he swallows and moans. his forgotten cock is moving in sync with his body, and daniel can smell the sex now, their mingled sweats, and something uncharacteristically sweet from the air. and he can feel the _torture_ that is fernando’s clenching ass. he digs his heels to the floor and thrusts up when fernando goes down and then he lets out a very loud and a very long sigh, moves his hands to rub fernando’s damp, smooth thighs, and surrenders.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
